


Spring

by Rifa



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Old Married Couple, Outdoor Sex, Post-Canon, Rimming, Romantic Fluff, Skinny Dipping, Underwater Blow Jobs, Wrestling, farming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rifa/pseuds/Rifa
Summary: After the events of Inquisition Hawke and Fenris settle down on a piece of farmland in Ferelden, learning to work the land and raise animals together. Fluffy self-indulgent romance and smut with happily domestic and peaceful fenhawke.





	Spring

**Author's Note:**

> I have been having a very rough and tumble year, a very good year, but rough nonetheless. My writing has had to take a back seat and this little self-indulgent baby is an attempt to grease my wheels so I can get back to my professional writing, commissions and hopefully my other fics. Please accept this small gift in exchange for my absence <3
> 
> Quick note - Fenris gets a bit risky cause he misses some risk but obviously you shouldn't try this at home

A red-bellied robin landed above Fenris, its tail twitched to balance against the branch’s gentle sway. The bird blinked at Fenris warily, turned and hopped down to the sun-speckled grass. Within a moment the bird had gathered a few stray threads of yellowed grass and fluttered off, leaving Fenris alone in the garden once again.

Their garden was small, too small to be properly considered as a farm of any real sort. The property bordered the old boundaries of what had been Lothering. Most of the land had not fully recovered the concentration of the Blight, but Hawke had wanted to settle down near his homeland. The small Ferelden cottage was surrounded by orchards whose rows of apple trees knitted seamlessly into the evergreens of the nearby forest. 

The garden was a few large plots in the sunniest part of their land. Fenris’ bare feet settled gently on the damp, dark earth as he checked the growth. Rhubarb, squash, kale, all growing well. Pumpkins, potatoes, carrots, their trailing green tails and vines leafing and flowering. Fenris reached deep into the dirt to pull a freshly sprouted weed, tossing it to his pile as he moved on. The bottoms of his feet would be nearly black when the day was over, the palms of his hands rough, the deepening lines and hardening calluses shadowed from the work.

Hawke was working on repairing a fence on the other side of the property and Fenris could hear the steady hammering of nails echo amongst the small clearing the paddock and garden made within the wood. They had feared that they would lose the goats when they saw the battered fence and the animals furiously eating the tall grass beyond their pen. Luckily their mabari proved herself a decent herd dog even with a belly swollen with pups.

Fenris hummed to himself as he gathered the pile of weeds into his arms. Their first year living off the land had been difficult with many hard lessons to learn. Fenris had thought he had at least a basic understanding of how much work a small homestead would be but was woefully unprepared for the reality. The cottage had needed repairs after it had been ravaged at some point during the breach and the Inquisition’s reign, by either mages or Templars or demons or maker knew. Hawke made it his project, idealizing and planning the home they would live out their remaining years. He redid the floors, stripped the wood of old bloodstains, installed new shelving and a new hearth. The work grew with each day of work, projects spiralling from new difficulties and discoveries of deeper damage. Hawke was busy with the house and Fenris took it upon himself to try and establish the rest of the homestead.

Now they had the garden, triple the amount of plots they had started with that first year. The crops were small, crowded, the wrong ones planted beside each other. Fenris simply did not know enough about plants to get a good foothold. The first fence had been felled by the winds of a storm, though luckily there had not been any livestock to keep corraled yet. The first clutch of chickens was almost completely wiped out by a roving pack of wolves. 

Fenris was happy to slaughter the wolves so they would never come back. It was at least something he knew how to do. That night as Hawke helped him wash the blood from his skin he had asked if he could just make coin by putting down the beasts that terrorized the nearby farms. He could sell his services, take out bandits and escort merchants and travellers along the more dangerous of Ferelden’s roads. Hawke was quiet as he rung hot water down Fenris’ back, smoothed out the knots in Fenris’ tightened shoulders.

“We came here so we wouldn’t have to do that anymore,” Hawke had answered quietly, Fenris watched his shadow flickering from the lantern across the unfinished walls of their home. “You don’t need to sell that anymore, we shouldn’t need to fight to survive.”

Fenris agreed. He tried harder.

The second year had gone better. The cottage was nearly complete by the winter and they ended up burning through both their firewood supply and the beams Hawke had harvested to build a barn. They started the second year, not unlike the first, but this time Fenris had enough failures to learn from behind him. The garden took better, they bought a breeding pair of goats and a few more hens. Their crops were rich, fat vegetables and juicy apples from the orchard filled their pantry and root cellar. Fenris couldn’t help but feel like they tasted better than any he had ever had before. 

Every year it got a little easier, which was good because they were growing older. Hawke had begun to show it first, grey appearing in silvers in his beard and his hair. He slept deep, but only when Fenris made him a tea that soothed the pains in his back that refused to leave. Fenris continued to stretch and work his muscles every morning, unable and unwilling to let go of the one positive habit his adolescence had given him. But he felt the limits receding slowly, the lyrium sitting unused in his skin grew heavier, started to rise from his skin like a damaged vein. But the work kept them active, kept them getting up every morning and the vegetables and milk and eggs kept them healthy.

Fenris threw the collected weeds over the fence to the immediate interest of the goats. They tottered over, rumbling in their throats quietly as they nosed at and nibbled the greens with flicking tails. The three nannies were fat with milk, their kids butting their way up to the source of the excitement. Fenris would need to milk them, it was unlikely that Hawke would be able to with the fence repairs.

He followed the fence down to the small barn Hawke had built, oh, three years ago now? Chickens trotted away from Fenris’ steps, clucking softly as they pecked at the well-worn earth along the path. Half of the new chicks would be sold at the market, along with the three kids and the puppies, during the harvest festival in the nearby township. It was one of the only times of the year Fenris ventured back to civilization, stifled by the open stares and the hushed questions. They were still renowned, not only for the events in Kirkwall but in the legacy they had both left with the Inquisition as well. Neither of them were interested in being a local celebrity, or in attracting undue attention to their home. All they needed was each other.

Bluebell was dozing in the barn, her ears back and her tail swished away flies. The old mare had been an impulse buy along with their mabari the one time Hawke went to the summer market alone. She blinked awake and nosed at Fenris’ empty, earth-stained hands, her soft lips quivering gently over his fingers.

“Sorry Blue,” Fenris gave her a scratch between her ears which she pulled away from with an offended twitch of her ears. “The kids ate all the weeds. Let me get to the buckets…”

Blue was stubborn but eventually moved after Fenris gave her a push behind her shoulder. She wandered out of the barn, ears back to display her dislike of being forced from her napping spot. Fenris gathered the buckets, tipping out the hay and dust that had collected in them and ducked back into the sunlight.

The goats were long done with the weeds, tottering over with flicking ears and licked lips when they noticed Fenris carrying the buckets. They weaved about his feet, bleating excitedly as the young kids sprung themselves about the bustle. The first goat leapt to the milking pen without being asked, head straining in expectation of the grain Fenris would offer them in exchange for a chance to milk them. Within a moment Fenris had gathered the grain, quickly washed his hands and was squirting milk out from the fat nanny.

Hawke’s shadow stretched across the grass as Fenris finished up with the last goat. Hawke’s tunic was unlaced, the fabric falling away to reveal a sampling of his wide chest covered in soft hair and dewed with sweat from his work. He smiled, his large callused hands scratching the heads of the curious goats that wandered up to him as Fenris caught his eye.

“How is the fence?” Fenris asked, collecting the bucket now full of fresh goat milk.

“Fixed,” Hawke nodded, “I checked along the west fence line and found a few weak points I want to mend up tomorrow.”

Fenris stood and shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun, “You have time now.”

Hawke shrugged, “Do you have time now?”

Fenris’ ear twitched in the gentle breeze, his lips stretched into a slow smirk, “What for?”

Hawke shrugged again, this time more theatrically, “It’s warm out, I was thinking…”

Hawke’s words trailed off as he stepped towards Fenris, closing the distance between them even as the goats bleated and scurried around them. Fenris smiled, familiar with the twinkle in Hawke’s honey eyes. He leaned in but Fenris turned on his heel at the last moment, his ears flicking playfully.

“I need to put the milk away,” Fenris said innocently.

Hawke followed Fenris from the paddock to the house and helped him store the milk. The buckets were rinsed and laid to dry out in the sun, Fenris stretched out his arms and back as he took in the warm sunlight on his face.

“It's too hot!” Hawke groaned, fanning himself frantically. Sweat had beaded on his brow and his shirt was damp with it, his size and disposition were not suited for the warm weather that had rolled through this year. Fenris rather enjoyed it and, truth be told, he didn’t mind seeing Hawke sweat a bit. 

Hawke pulled his tunic over his head, his thick muscles had a sheen from the warmth across them that caught the sun. He threw the shirt aside, rolling his shoulders and throwing out his arms to catch the breeze. 

“Hey,” Hawke cooed, pulling Fenris’ gaze up from the trail of thick hair that led under his waistband. Fenris smirked, any shyness he had once felt regarding his relationship with Hawke had evaporated years ago. 

“Hey yourself,” Fenris lifted himself to his toes to peck a quick kiss on Hawke’s lips. Hawke wrapped his arms around Fenris immediately, capturing him into a deeper kiss. Warm and wet in the spring sun, Fenris’ hands ran up Hawke’s chest through his damp chest hair.

“Ugh,” Fenris teased, breaking the kiss despite Hawke’s pressing little pecks on his cheek. “You are very sweaty.”

“I know,” Hawke purred darkly, his arms tightening around Fenris to hold him. “Big and sweaty and - OUCH-”

Fenris chuckled as Hawke released him, nursing his pinched nipple, “Sorry what were you saying?”

“You fight dirty,” Hawke grinned mischievously, planning a retaliation.

“Perhaps,” Fenris shrugged, he stood loose on bent knees, ready. “What do you intend to do about-”

Hawke tackled Fenris, cutting off his words as he wrapped a thick arm around him to protect him from hitting the ground too hard. Grass tickled at Fenris’ ears, the earth pleasantly soft and cool under them. Hawke straddled him, sitting across his lap and laying an assault of kisses up and down Fenris’ neck.

Fenris’ arms wrapped about Hawke’s back, warm under the thin sheen of sweat. He held him close, humming as the kisses became wet against his neck, as teeth played against the rise of lyrium on his throat. Fenris gasped softly, digging his nails into Hawke’s back as his teeth sunk in and sucked at the sensitive skin.

“Hawke,” Fenris breathed low. Hawke nearly growled in response, hungry, releasing Fenris from his love bite to lay a trail of kisses up his throat and jaw. 

“Fenris,” Hawke answered before taking Fenris into a deep kiss. Pressed down onto the cool earth, Hawke’s huge form above him, his arm wrapped tight around him, Fenris melted. He had never felt as safe as he felt now, with Hawke on the land that they tended together. This life was theirs and it was simple and straightforward, nothing held Fenris back from kissing Hawke as deeply as he needed.

Hawke broke away and lifted himself on his thick arms, Fenris nearly following until he let his grip on Hawke loosen. 

“It’s hot,” Hawke said, again. His skin was flushed from both the sun and from their entanglement. “We should have a swim.”

A river ran amid the tall evergreens on the edge of their farm and at one point it slowed into a deep and peaceful pace. They had swam there before when the heat of the sun and the burn of their work coated them in sweat and dirt. It beat gathering water from their well to fill their tub or pouring a bucket of lukewarm water over your head at the end of a long day.

“As you say,” Fenris said, taking Hawke’s offered hand and standing beside him. 

Hawke whistled for the mabari, who begrudgingly waddled out from a shady spot behind the woodpile, and the three of them set off. The mabari, Hawke had called her Ava, perked up as soon as she realized where they were heading and led them as if they were a charge. They trailed along behind her, breaking away from the hay field and weaving in between the skinny birch trees that scattered before the dark tree line.

When they first purchased the land and began to work it Fenris had felt tethered to it in a way that chafed him. He had never owned anything of value that he could not carry on his person, had never connected his own welfare to something he could stand upon. He had been resistant to leave it for the first few weeks, even as supply and their projects led them back to the village often. If he left it he wouldn’t be sure it would be there if he returned, he couldn’t protect it from those who might try to raze their home or take the land for their own.

Peace in Ferelden had been hard won and shakey, but it was peace nonetheless. Hawke had been able to pry Fenris from his guard, to kiss his fingers as he led him away and reminded him that his vigilance was not required to keep the land as theirs. It had been a few years now and Fenris’ heart no longer jumped into his throat as he stepped out of sight of the farm buildings and the small cottage, he followed Hawke into the cool forest without thought.

The thick forest opened to the river. Steady and peaceful, the water’s surface betrayed only the slightest hints of a current. Flower petals and shaken leaves glided lazily across its surface, the only things that broke the shining sparkling gold the sun reflected upon the water. 

The mabari came rustling out from the underbrush snorting and clamoured down a bank to the water to loudly lap from its surface. Hawke followed her, unlacing his trousers and sitting on a bank to pull off his boots. Fenris undid his tunic, pulling it away slowly as he dipped a toe into the freezing river water. Gooseflesh rose against him on his barred chest and arms.

Hawke was naked, clothes laid out over a downed tree, bent as he navigated the swell of earth and tangles of fallen trees to reach a high spot along the river bank. Fenris watched as he teetered on his bare feet on the rough earth, about five feet above the water’s surface, looking over the edge at the water.

“What are you waiting for?” Fenris teased, unlacing his leggings and slowly peeling them from his legs. “Jump!”

Hawke made a noise of mock offence, standing naked over the river. The mabari barked as if to agree with Fenris, and somehow that was the final push for Hawke. He poised himself on the edge, winding up in practice for the jump before finally bounding from the ledge and hitting the river’s peaceful face with a loud splash. 

Hawke broke the surface, water beading in his beard and running off his red face as he gasped for breath. The dog barked and bounced around the bank before jumping in to Hawke’s rescue. The two of them were treading the deep water, panting and snorting. 

“Water’s g-great,” Hawke’s teeth chattered, pushing the dog away as she attempted to climb onto him. “You’re gonna love it.”

Fenris shuddered as he stepped into the shallow swell, the cascade of stones that gave way to deeper and rockier water. It was _freezing_. But coupled with the sun that was glaring down on them Fenris knew it would all balance out in the end. Besides, rinsing themselves of dirt and sweat here saved them labour back at the farm.

Hawke bobbed gently in the water, dunking his head and rising again to shake and scrub the cold water through his hair and face. He made the water attractive, despite its misgiving temperate, and Fenris found himself seduced in further. 

Two steps had him plunge to his thighs, the next step past his navel shocking his most sensitive parts to the cold water. Hawke chuckled at Fenris’ gasp, watching with a grin as Fenris stepped off the last of the underwater boulders and tread water with him.

The cold water numbed his limbs for the first minute, freezing between his legs and under his arms. The constant movement to keep himself afloat warmed his muscles quickly, the sunlight shining on his damp face. It started to feel good. Weightless and free in the river, Fenris swam slowly to Hawke’s side.

Hawke’s hand found him under the surface, warm as it slid around Fenris’ ribs and pulled him close. Their bodies touched, hidden underwater like a secret, Hawke’s chest flush against Fenris’ as they both kicked slowly against the current.

“Hello,” Hawke said softly, Fenris’ ears perking to his voice. Birds were singing within the forest and the dog splashed loudly as she climbed back to dry land but, it was peaceful. Quiet, as if they were the only people left in the world.

Fenris kissed Hawke, their legs tangling by mistake, their hips pressing even closer than before. They almost sunk below the surface, the water reaching up past their chins before they broke off to pump against the water’s grasp. Fenris forgot about being cold, preoccupied with the dreamy look in Hawke’s honey eyes, the strands of greyed hair clinging against this forehead. 

“I love you,” Fenris said, his hands finding Hawke under the cover of the river. He traced his thick chest, the gentle waving of his hair there, sliding down to his waist, his hips…

“Oh-” Hawke gasped, he nearly choked on water as he chuckled, cheeks red. “I thought we came here to cool off and bathe, not fool around.”

Fenris stroked Hawke’s cock where it floated deep in the water, “Knowing you,” Fenris pressed close again, smirking, “You are _filthy_ and in need of thorough attention.”

Fenris slipped under the surface before Hawke could respond, water filling his ears and muting the world beyond them. The river enveloped him, dark with cloudy beams of light shimmering and flickering into the murky depths. Fenris was a good swimmer, he hadn’t always been but his strong body took to the water easily.

Hawke’s body swayed gently in the water under Fenris’ hands, every hair waving in the tension and pull of the current. He looked like some sort of demi-god in the water, muscles tensed as they worked to keep him afloat, skin otherworldly under the water’s discolouration and the prickle of gooseflesh. It was as if Fenris had slipped into the fade, shifted into a more fluid and agile creature and happened upon a river spirit.

The fantastical thoughts were carried away by the river and Fenris grasped the back of Hawke’s thighs, careful not to pull him under. He let his love become his anchor, trusting his body as Fenris pulled himself close and mouthed at Hawke’s cock. He was half hard already, turned by their grinding and Fenris diving beneath him. Fenris drove long licks down his shaft, mouthing at his floating sac and stroking him with his hand. All was water and wet until it ceased to feel like anything, the sensations heightened in a way Fenris wouldn’t be able to replicate elsewhere.

Fenris broke the water’s surface, gasping for breath, his hand still wrapped around Hawke’s hard cock.

“ _Maker_ -” Hawke croaked, his large hands steadying Fenris as he swallowed more air. “You better not drown on-”

Fenris plunged down again, sinking to meet where his hand had anchored himself to Hawke. Blood was loud in his ears in the absence of sound, the rush of water shifting as he pulled close and took Hawke into his mouth. He closed his eyes, all senses muffled, floating in the water with minimal effort, breath held. He could feel Hawke shifting under his hands, within his mouth as he bobbed his head, focusing only on _Hawke_. 

Hawke was thick in Fenris’ mouth, small bubbles broke from the corners of his lips as he worked it expertly, ruthlessly. He intended for Hawke to come like this, with Fenris deep under the water, putting his trust and his life almost entirely to the man he loved more than anything else. The exhilaration, the pure risk of it had Fenris hard between his legs. He counted down his remaining breath like a mantra in his head. 

The forest sounds burst in Fenris’ ears as he came for breath again, snorting water out of his nose. He was getting tired but he figured - “One more,” he gasped to Hawke, whose face was as red as a beet. “Once more, let me, one more time.”

Hawke tasted of the musk Fenris had come to recognize as inherently _him_. A soft sweat and a sour tang that peaked under it, all of it hidden under the murky earthy taste of the river. He was hard but almost slippery in the water, gravity unable to help as Fenris bobbed his head, having to tongue and lap more to make up for it the sluggish pace. He reached for Hawke’s balls, finding them blindly and realizing how they clung close to Hawke’s body. He was close.

Fenris hummed, released a bit of his breath and wreathed Hawke’s cock in a stream of tiny bubbles. Hawke’s cock twitched at the back of Fenris’ throat and warm salt filled his mouth. He sucked hard, impatient, but still had to break away before he got the last spurt that released into the river.

Hawke helped pull Fenris from the depths, his strong arms shaking around Fenris as they both gasped for breath. Fenris kicked out hard against the water, Hawke’s seed still thick upon his tongue as his throat lashed for air. Hawke’s hands steadied him as he swallowed, coughed and snorted out the last of the river water.

“Fenris-” Hawke was breathless, the muscles in his face lax and warm with his afterglow. He pressed on Fenris’ chest under the water’s surface and Fenris understood immediately, turning to slowly swim for the river’s bank.

Fenris’ feet found purchase before Hawke, balancing weightlessly on the slippery boulders that gave from land to water. He stumbled, forgetting how his legs worked for a moment, pulling Hawke to him. Hawke struggled, slipping despite Fenris’ attempts to hold him up, and instead paddled himself to a shallow part of the river.

Hawke sat in the river, hair and face streaked with sweat and water as he grinned up to Fenris, “What the hell was that?”

Fenris chuckled and shrugged, joining Hawke in the warm shallows. The stones were large enough to sit on but deep enough that the water reached halfway up their chests. His legs were burning from the exertion, his sinuses stinging and sore from staying underwater, but it was worth it.

“That was so dangerous,” Hawke shook his head, blinking hard against the rush they had both just experienced. 

“I didn’t drown,” Fenris smiled and reached for Hawke under the water, finding his warm thigh and squeezing. “That is hardly the most dangerous thing we have done.”

“No,” Hawke turned to him with a solemn look and Fenris felt a pang of guilt, “But we started living here so that we wouldn’t need to take risks or be reckless, remember?”

Fenris’ ears twitched in the breeze, “You say that as if you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

Hawke flushed, “Hey I-” His face screwed up but still he leaned towards Fenris, so close that their noses nearly touched, “I’m just _saying_ -”

Fenris kissed him. His mouth was warm and surrendered immediately, kissing back against Fenris with an almost embarrassed drive. They shifted in the water, Fenris climbing to straddle over Hawke’s lap, his cock still hard and nudging against Hawke’s stomach.

Hawke groaned in Fenris’ mouth, pushing past Fenris’ swollen lips to explore his mouth with his tongue. Their arms wrapped around one another, cold river water streaking down their arms and backs. Fenris ground against Hawke, gasping between kisses. Hard and wet and rutting in the shallows of the river, like some wild creature. 

Anyone could venture through these woods or follow the river to the further township, anyone could walk in to find these ageing heroes entangled and naked in the water. The thought spurred Fenris on, the small risks building anticipation in a way that felt rare and novel these peaceful days. 

“Wait,” Hawke gasped against Fenris’ lips, hands urging at his back. “Turn over- Grab the bank-”

Fenris rose an eyebrow but moved on hands in the water until he found the edge of the river. His hands flat in the clumped grass and damp earth back bent with his knees and feet braced in the river. He flushed, his cock heavy where it hung, turning to watch Hawke follow him.

Hawke’s hands laid over Fenris’ ass reverently, wet and slick against Fenris’ skin. Fenris could feel the warm breath over his skin, his cheeks warming at the attention, the way Hawke was looking at him. He wanted to be fucked like this, out in the river and in the dirt. But they had not brought oil, and Hawke’s cock had not yet recovered.

The anticipation was broken with a breath against Fenris’ hole, Hawke’s hands pulling him open. Fenris whimpered, fingers twisting in the earth, right as Hawke’s tongue lapped at the tense sensitive skin at his entrance. 

“Hawke!” Fenris cried, his body tensing and shuddering in shock. His cock ached, burning hot where it hung between his spread legs. It was suddenly too much, too much to bear.

Hawke stroked him with a thumb where he held his ass open. His tongue rolled long and lazy strokes over Fenris’ hole, adding slick salvia to the wetness that already dampened his skin. Fenris struggled to relax, wrung so tightly his arms were trembling under his own weight. He could feel the prickle and burn of Hawke’s beard against him but he couldn’t see him properly, turning to look only showed Hawke’s thick arms holding him, his back curved as he ate him out at the edge of the river. The small flutter in Fenris’ chest eased, 

Hawke feasted upon him like a starving man. His tongue lapping and lazily twisting over the sensitive skin, waves of pleasure and shock trembling up and down Fenris’ arched spine. Hawke’s tongue traced the easing ring of muscle, coaxing it lax and open under his mouth. Fenris’ hands were full of earth, driving the dirt under his fingernails as he whimpered and moaned. Arched wanton over the edge of the river, his cock dripped thickly between his legs. 

“Hawke-” Fenris croaked, his throat closing on the hard sounds as another whimper warbled from him. He was close, he was so close. Hawke lapped harder and faster, flicking his tongue thickly over the puckered entrance before pressing his lips and _sucking_.

Fenris cried out, bucking against the overwhelming pleasure, but was held firmly in place by Hawke’s strong arms. Fenris felt as if he were being delicately torn into pieces as a peach pulled apart by teeth and lips. He trembled as the tip of Hawke’s tongue dipped inside of him, hot and wet, twisting and prying him open further. It was too much, it felt too good and Fenris didn’t know if he wanted this to stop or to continue until the end of time.

“Please-” Fenris whimpered weakly, teetering on one hand for a moment as he attempted to hold himself up and palm at his cock. Hawke pulled back for a brief moment, stroked up Fenris’ tailbone reassuringly before slipping under him.

Fenris dug his nails into the dirt as Hawke’s hand wrapped around his length. Fenris felt as if Hawke was operating him through open nerves. As if he was tapping into the lyrium under his skin and puppeteering him through the intense pleasure. Fenris felt wild and if Hawke’s lips and tongue were not worshipping his hole and his hand not wrapped around Fenris’ cock he might have burst into feral pieces. Turn into winds that would break apart through the woods and rock the trees upon their roots. 

“Come,” Hawke breathed against Fenris’ soaked and fluttering hole. Fenris gave in, surrendered to the pleasure. Hawke stroked him firmly between his bent knees, kissed his entrance as if it were Fenris’ mouth. 

Time seemed to suspend, the forest silent save for the lewd slurping and gutteral panting they supplied. Fenris’ heartbeat slow and heavy in his chest, counting down as his balls tightened, his back trembled. He let out a cry as Hawke worked his orgasm from him, spurting into the riverbed beneath him as Hawke’s mouth slowed to a stop.

Fenris’ weight fell upon him all at once. His arms shuddered and his feet stumbled where they had planted in the river. Cold and uncomfortable all at once now that the moment was over, but still soothed as if his soul had been sweetened with honey.

Hawke helped him to the river bank, steadying his shaking and laying him down in the long grassy reeds. The dog padded by briefly, sniffing and snorting about before Hawke sent her away. They laid next to each other beside the river, Fenris turning and twisting so his body cupped around Hawke’s.

“You alright?” Hawke whispered, twisting damp strands of Fenris’ hair in his fingers. 

Fenris hummed and pulled closer, “That was unexpected.”

“You sucked me off _underwater_ I had to do something in return,” Hawke chuckled, pressing kisses on Fenris’ head where he had curled close. 

“I suppose,” Fenris let his eyes close against the lazy spring sun, slowly warming his damp and spent body. 

“I guess we will need to actually wash up before we head back,” Hawke said, closing a protective arm over Fenris. “I mean, you are _very_ clean in one spot but-”

Fenris snorted, grinning against sleep, “I’m sleeping Hawke.”

“Oh, sorry.” Hawke held him a little tighter, “I’ll wake you in a while.”

Fenris sighed, allowing himself to fully relax in Hawke’s arms. He was damp but warm, laying over broad reed grass and fragrant earth. He could hear the birds singing, the river against the banks and their mabari settle down near them. He was safe, he was happy, and he had all he could have ever asked for.


End file.
